Expectations
by SimplyTheBeth
Summary: Elizabeth is getting used to having Henry home from his deployment, but Henry is ready for another change.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I had initially mapped this out as a one-shot, but I feel like it took a left turn somewhere. I may continue with it. I may leave it as-is. ...We shall see. Let me know what you think!

* * *

She leaned over the kitchen sink and stared up at the dry erase calendar to her left. Just shy of three weeks since she should have placed a discreet red dot in the lower-left-hand corner marked for the 8th day of the month. She glanced down at the half-empty blister pack of small white pills on the counter. She thought she'd have a bit of time to settle into the idea. Elizabeth was nothing if not a thoughtful, meticulous planner. But this was fast—too fast.

In fact, it was Henry who brought it up first. And while she wasn't entirely opposed to the idea of a baby, they were still young. Not to mention, he'd only just made it back from his deployment. Their time together was a precious commodity—a scarcity until now. She so loved kissing him anytime she pleased, waking up in his arms each morning, fooling around with him in the living room, the shower, and up against the fridge. A baby would change things.

* * *

 _"Hey," he offered gently, taking note of her furrowed brow. "It's you and me for good now, Babe. I'm not going anywhere."_

 _With the last of her reservations quietly ebbing, she conceded. She'd toss the remaining pills, and they'd begin trying within the year. In the meantime, she thought, they'd just play it safe. In seven years' time, she'd never missed a dose; a baby would take some time._

 _The conversation ignited something carnal in him. He was so excited, they barely made it to the bedroom before he was inside her. She hadn't even had time to dispose of the pills._

 _"Babe," she said breathlessly, between his demanding kisses. "This is purely recreational." She let out a slow, even breath when his hips met hers. Perhaps a little recreation would do her some good. Still—she wanted to be perfectly clear. "We're not making a baby right now."_

 _He shifted his weight, and the pressure between her thighs began to build. He buried his fingers in her hair, and gave it a gentle tug, tipping her head back so his lips could find the spot just below her ear that always made her moan._

 _"Practice," he responded, unable to extricate himself from her, as his hips found a slow, grounding rhythm._

* * *

It was all so beautifully new again. Just like that, they were newlyweds, taking time to explore each other—to play freely and to make love on top of the washing machine at the drop of a hat, after their time apart. They couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other.

She could have sworn she felt the faintest flutter when she placed a hand against her flat abdomen. She only vaguely recalled taking a small, unopened foil packet out of Henry's hand, and mumbling something about being in the clear. The way his fingertips felt against her skin at that moment, she could hardly form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. She tossed it onto the floor as he slid a hand between her legs.

She must have miscalculated.

It happened five weeks ago. Celebrating his first full day as a newly-established professor, he'd brought home a bottle of red wine and a dozen white roses.

* * *

 _They took their time undressing each other, pausing to revel in each caress of newly-exposed skin. They kissed passionately as their bodies moved together, their limbs tangling, as the world went hazy around them._

 _She awoke the next morning to a gentle kiss on her forehead. She smiled, turning to bury her head in the crook of his arm._

 _"Morning sleepyhead." His fingertips softly traced the gentle curve of her back, "Last night was..."_

 _She nuzzled softly into his chest. "I think we got another good practice round in," she joked; her voice belaying the faintest hint of uncertainty._

 _"Oh," he said, clocking his wife's tone._

 _"Don't do that," she sighed. "Don't 'oh,' me."_

 _"What? I—"_

 _"Henry." She said flatly, lifting her head to glance up at him. "I don't want you to get your hopes up. Babe, we haven't even officially started trying yet; I'm not ready. It's gonna take time, anyway." She maneuvered herself to pull away from him. "…Besides, it's too late this month."_

 _He reached for her, laced their fingers together and placed a soft kiss just below her knuckles, bringing their joined hands down to rest against the soft skin just above her navel._

 _"Hm," He said, stealing a glance at the unopened condom on the floor._

 _"I'll get there, babe." She smiled, reassuringly. "And trust me, you'll be the first to know when I am."_

 _He flashed her a devilish grin. "Well... as long as we're just practicing," he teased, hooking one leg over his wife's hip, turning her onto her back, and climbing on top of her as she burst into a fit of laughter. He covered her mouth with his, and she smiled against him, trying and failing to contain herself._

 _"That's my second favorite sound," he mumbled, between kisses._

 _She raised a brow at him, as his lips traveled across her jaw, down her neck, and between her breasts._

 _"Second favorite sound?" She questioned._

 _He gave her a wry smirk, and disappeared beneath the covers. "What's your—?"_

 _"Ohhhhhhh..." she moaned softly, the air slowly leaving her lungs, as her back arched up off the bed. "Yesssss."_

* * *

He moved to join her at the sink, wrapping his arms around her midsection, and softly kissing her neck.

"Not now, Henry—I…"

He dropped his arms to his sides, and took a step back.

"I think I ate something." She reached to pull her hair back, and heaved herself over the sink, retching violently.

When she finished, she stood up, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

"Ah," he said knowingly. "How long ago?"

She turned to face him, blinking back tears, unable to meet his eyes.

"Last month. I think it was your first day of work. Or—or maybe it was the next morning? I'm not sure. …Henry, I'm three weeks late."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for your patience, guys! Hope it was worth the wait. There's more where this came from; so please let me know what you think!

* * *

 _~Three years earlier~_

 _They packed up her dorm and his one-bedroom apartment, loaded up the moving van, and trekked across the state to base housing. She slid over the bench seat to be closer to him, and picked absentmindedly at the fray on her ripped jeans, as the rain beat down on the windshield._

" _You okay?" He asked, noticing a small pile of thread accumulating between them._

" _Yeah. Why?"_

" _Nothing." He said quietly, shaking his head. "Nevermind."_

" _No, tell me."_

 _He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "When you're anxious, you tend to take it out on your clothes."_

 _She smiled, brushing the pile of fuzz onto the floor, and slid her hand into his. The soft click of her engagement ring as it shifted against her wedding band was such a new feeling._

" _I know this wasn't exactly the picture you had in your head." He offered, reassuringly. We'll figure it out."_

 _She wanted a June wedding, with plenty of warm sunshine, white peonies, and her brother there to walk her down the aisle. Instead, she settled for a gold cocktail dress with an ivory lace overlay she'd bought at the mall a few hours before their city hall appointment._

 _While Henry was much more traditional than she, he couldn't help but notice her disappointment over how quickly their plans got shelved._

 _They had just two weeks and four days of newly-wedded bliss together before his deployment—most of which was spent packing, and preparing for the move. In a few days' time, she'd be settling into their new home, and there would be an ocean between them._

" _We'll do it properly when I get back," he offered, adjusting the windshield wipers. "Big church, white dress, flowers... anything you want, Babe."_

 _She traced the lines on his palm. "I really am happy," she replied, smiling, and interlocking their fingers._

 _It wasn't a lie; she loved the way her new name unfurled warmly from his mouth, when he introduced her to someone—his hand resting gently on the small of her back. From the moment they met, it was meant to be. But it was fast. Maybe a little faster than her capacity to adjust. Still, they were madly in love. He wanted nothing more than to make sure she was taken care of in his absence. And despite the careful plans she made for herself, he always seemed to know just how to beautifully upend things for her._

* * *

 _She was always going to wait for him; there was never any question about that. But she was a 21-year-old brand-new college grad with a handful of esteemed job offers, all within walking distance of a spacious downtown loft apartment owned by her Aunt Joan, where she'd stay until Henry's return. Marriage was nowhere on her radar. …Until it was._

 _One lazy Sunday afternoon, basking in the post-coital glow of a languid morning spent in bed together, he pressed a soft kiss to her belly, and slid a ring onto her finger. He'd built and presented a solid case for moving quickly, and before she could so much as utter a word, he urged his head between her legs and implored her to "think about it," as her thighs wrapped instinctively around his head._

 _Fifteen minutes and two orgasms later, she agreed._

 _No sooner did their disbelieving families come to terms with the engagement, did they tie the knot in a low-key ceremony on a chilly Tuesday afternoon. There was no reception, just Henry's small apartment where they drank cheap champagne and holed up for three days, never bothering to leave the bedroom._

* * *

 _Thinking back over those first few days she spent in his arms, naked and utterly rapt by the warmth of his embrace, she smirked, peering over her glasses at him. "I'll settle for a proper honeymoon."_

 _She slid a hand up his thigh, and drew her lower lip between her teeth._

" _Babe," he chuckled. "We're in a moving van."_

" _Christmas break, sophomore year. Back of your dad's Dodge, behind the old A &P parking lot." _

_His face split into a smile at the memory._

" _Besides, now that we're nothing but an old married couple, I think we owe it to ourselves to keep things kinda hot, don't you?"_

" _I think you're kinda hot."_

"… _Well, what're you gonna do about it?" She replied sweetly._

" _Elizabeth." He deadpanned._

 _She sighed, defeated. "Okay, fine," she conceded briefly, before smirking to herself, an idea forming in her mind. "Hey, do you know where my underwear went? I could've sworn I left a pair of panties out while I was packing, but I couldn't seem to find them when I got dressed this morning."_

 _With that, he pulled off into a desolate rest area, and they got to work fogging the windows._

* * *

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to her head, inhaling the clean, bright scent of lavender. They were finally coming through the other side of the most difficult years of their lives, their young marriage still miraculously intact. And now, a baby.

He would've been thrilled if she was ready for this next phase of their lives, but she was still adjusting to _this one_ —the one where they could finally be just like any other married couple.

He would have to find a way to be ready enough for both of them.

"We'll figure it out."

She eased into his embrace, then. If she was sure of one thing in her life, it was that Henry was a man of his word. They would figure it out. They always did. Together.

* * *

 _She rolled over and reached for his pillow, inhaling the fading smell of his aftershave. She had officially spent more time in this house alone, than she had with him._

" _Everything is more complicated than you think it is right now." Her aunt's words played on a loop in her brain. "The only way you come to know that is through experience." At the time, Elizabeth thought it was simply a reactionary response—frustration over the change in plans, the surprise of the engagement, even—not an assessment of her upcoming marriage. But after three months alone in a big, empty house, she began to see the truth in them. Sure, some otherwise uncertain things would be secure, but at what cost? Was it wise to upend her life, her entire support system for a Marine—an a aspiring fighter pilot—a man who might never make it home to her?_

 _But, oh—that man. That beautiful, maddening, amazing man. He was hers. …And also the U.S. Government's. But hers, nonetheless._

 _The phone rang, startling her out of her reverie. She glanced at the clock—1:37 A.M.—and reached for the phone._

 _"Henry?"_

 _"Babe, you're awake!"_

 _She could hear the smile in his voice, and it assuaged her deepest insecurities, and quieted the unease within her. "Yeah, I uh... I couldn't sleep."_

 _"Well maybe I can help."_


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Sorry again for the delay. Life sort of happened all at once. ...Hope you enjoy this chapter-it's pure smut, LOL! Let me know what you think.

* * *

She inhaled the bold scent of freshly-ground coffee, and flipped the switch on the pot, pulling her robe tightly around her midsection. It was a crisp, bright autumn morning—the likes of which she hadn't seen in a while. She was nearly always nauseous, but experiencing the very worst of her morning sickness in the evening had lent itself to many a late night, over those first few months.

The books had all but promised that her second trimester would be marked by drastic improvement in overall energy, and an uptick in her libido. Today was 13 weeks and six days, and the first time she'd been up before Henry since the summer.

She ran her hands over her small bump, and closed her eyes, tuning her ears to the slow rumble and drip of the coffee maker, as Henry padded softly into the kitchen, and slid his arms around her.

She smiled, then—the warm, easy smile of confidence. Despite so much uncertainty, she felt safe in his arms.

"Morning, sunshine," he said quietly, wrapping his arms around her from behind, and kissing her neck. "You're up awfully early."

She melted into his arms for the first time in what felt like forever, moaning as his lips moved in a gentle rhythm against her neck, arousing her senses. It had been months since intimacy with Henry had consisted of more than the occasional peck on the cheek. Her near-constant nausea had left her feeling less than amorous. But today, her husband's gentle touch sparked a need, swirling low in her belly.

When she didn't rebuff his advances, Henry seized upon her soft moans as an invitation. His hands began to explore the new curves and valleys of her—full hips, and round, firm breasts—leaving a pile of clothing in his wake. It didn't take long before she was stark naked in the middle of the kitchen. She looked like a damn goddess, he thought, stroking his fingertips over her belly.

"Feel good?" He mumbled, between kisses, one hand testing the full weight of one of her full breasts, pinching her nipple between his fingers as the other wandered between her thighs, and began to tease her.

"Mmmm... yes." She breathed, as he gently slid a finger inside her, testing her readiness.

"Henry," she whimpered softly as his fingertips brushed her just so.

He stealthily pressed his erection into her backside to convey just how much her breathy moans were affecting him.

She desperately craved the full feeling of having him buried so deep inside her, inching her ever-closer to release as he thrust. It had been too long.

"You'd better hurry up and get me off before your wife comes home," she managed to quip. His ministrations were driving her to the brink of ecstasy, and he wasn't even inside her yet.

He chuckled, and slid his hand from her breast to her back, and up her spine, urging her to bend over, and rest on the counter, as he got to his knees, and urged his head between her legs.

"Fuuuuuck," she exclaimed, as his tongue replaced his fingers, sliding closer and closer to where she needed to feel him, as he sucked and caressed her with each deft movement of his soft lips and flicking tongue against her.

"You taste so good," he mumbled into her, as her hand reached back, grabbing a fistful of his hair.

He laughed as he licked her, amused by her overwhelmed panting.

"Baby," she breathed, his tongue softly caressing her swollen center as her thighs began to shake. He was damn good at this, but she wanted—needed to feel skin slipping against skin; his body pressed against her, inside her. "I need it…"

Wordlessly, he got to his feet, and took her hand in his, leading her back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

She plopped down on the bed, and locked eyes with him as he tugged at the waistband of his black boxer-briefs, allowing his erection to spring free. She stroked the insides of her thighs and dragged her lower lip between her teeth, as he climbed over her body, careful not to lower himself onto her.

He kissed her softly, as she raked her fingers through the fine dusting of hair on his chest, and reached down to wrap her hand around him, and push her hips up, encouraging him to move things along.

"Christ," he gritted, trying desperately to maintain control. "Elizabeth…"

She smirked at him innocently. "Yes?"

"Babe, I don't want to hurt you," he said, rolling over, and flopping down next to her.

She took his hand in hers, guiding his fingers to the juncture of her thighs "I like it when it hurts."

"Fuck…" he groaned, as she took his fingers—now coated with her want—into her mouth, and moaned.

"Yes, that's the idea."

"You're going to kill me, woman."

Without warning, she climbed over him, and lowered her head to press her lips against the tip of his throbbing erection. She closed her eyes and wrapped her lips around him, humming softly as he grabbed a fistful of sheets, and gritted his teeth. She slid her tongue down his length, massaging his balls with one hand, while the other busied itself between her own legs.

After a few moments of simultaneously driving him wild while frustratingly seeking her own release, she got to her knees, and climbed up over him, turning around to give him a birds-eye view of her plump rear, and bent over, taking him in her mouth again.

He licked his lips, and eyed her dripping sex for a brief moment before fitting his mouth over her once again to suck and lap at her softly.

"Unhhhhhh," she relaxed the back of her throat to take him in deeper, and let out a strangled cry, as he buried his face in her wet heat, using his hands to spread her. It felt so good to have him there, his tongue caressing her softly, but it was wasn't enough. After months without making love, she ached for him.

"Baby," she said, releasing him from her mouth with a wet pop. "I can't take it anymore. I want you inside me; I need a fucking orgasm. Now."

The morning stubble on his chin chafed her thighs as he extricated himself from her, and pulled himself up into a sitting position, his wife still bent over him on all fours.

"You want me to make you come." He said quietly, knowing full well the effect his words would have on her.

"Yes," she whispered, closing her eyes.

"You want to feel me? You want me buried deep inside you?"

"God, yes," she whimpered.

He got to his knees and climbed off the bed, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her back to him.

She instinctively dropped down on all fours, in front of him again, and he guided himself to her center with one hand, sliding the other up her back, urging her to relax into the position.

He slid the tip along her slick folds, "You're so wet..."

"Please, Henry, just… God!" she whined, and in one quick motion, he was inside her.

She gasped, and dropped her head to the mattress. When she looked up again, she caught a glimpse of them in the bedroom mirror. His eyes closed, hair tousled, he was utterly focused on the feeling of being surrounded entirely by _her._ She had never seen anything sexier. She moaned, partly in appreciation for the vision in front of her, and partly because his fingers found their way between her legs, to stroke her deftly in time with each generous thrust.

She looked up again, taking in the sight of him fucking her hard from behind, when he opened his eyes, and took notice of her watching.

"You like that, babe?" he said with a smirk.

She gave him a throaty laugh in response, followed by a surprised gasp, as his fingers applied just the right amount of pressure to her spot.

"How 'bout this?" Without missing a beat, he pulled her up into a kneeling position, her back flush against him while he thrust.

She let out a slow, even breath and tried to focus her eyes on the sight of him filling his palms with her bouncing breasts, running his hands over her swollen belly. She felt so deliriously full with him pushing up inside her at this new angle. He was big to begin with, and it had been a while—perhaps years since they'd attempted _this_ position—but like a finely-tuned instrument, he always seemed to know just how and where to touch her to create music.

"Henry," she whispered, as his teeth gently grazed her shoulder. It wasn't a question, or a warning, but rather an affirmation.

"Good?" He asked, not bothering to slow his ministrations.

"So good," she breathed, feeling her body begin to tremble.


End file.
